GRANDMOTHER PUSS,
OR,
THE GRATEFUL MOUSE.
I wish that all the little boys andgirls who read this story could see Grandmother Puss; but as theycannot, I will tell you something about her. She is a very large,and handsome old cat of grave aspect, and solemn manners. Her face isblack, with white marks around the eyes, and across the nose, which makeher look as if she wore spectacles; and she has a grandson called Peter,who lives with her.
When Peter was but six weeks old, he was left an orphan; for somevery, very wicked dog had killed his mother! Grandmother Puss at oncetook the lonely kitten to her heart, with many tears, sharing her milkwith him; and as he grew larger, giving him the fattest and most tendermice, she could catch.
I think she spoiled him, as other Grandmothers do. He never watchedfor mice, and did nothing to earn his own living, but passed his timechiefly in chasing his own tail, and other vain and foolish amusements.Now, there was an old gray rat who lived in a hole, in the cellar. Hewas always up to some kind of mischief—had spoiled a great deal ofmilk, and carried off all the cheese he could get his paws on—oncehe was even seen trying to get away with an egg, which he was rollinggently toward his hole!
He did so much harm, and was so very knowing and sly, that at lastGrandmother Puss declared, with tears in her eyes, that she wouldneither taste, touch, nor handle a single mouse, until she had caughtthe old gray robber. And she kept her word. She sometimes sat a wholenight, watching for the old rogue, but although she often saw him, shecould never catch him.
3There was also a cunning little mouse, who lived near by. He wascalled Cooky, because he was once seen lugging off a whole cooky, togive to his lame sister. Now, the wicked old rat tried nearly as hard tocatch poor Cooky as Grandmother Puss did to get the old rat; and Cookywas more afraid of the grim old rat, than he was of the cat herself. Onenight Cooky saw the rat at one end of the cellar, very busy, eating apiece of cheese that he had stolen. So Cooky betook himself to the otherend, where he had seen some fine apples, and he was very fond of apples,indeed.
So he crept softly up to the heap, and was just about to taste afine, juicy one, when the cat saw him. “I said, I wouldnot touch, or taste a mouse,” she said, “but I didnot say I would not scare one, and I cannot see these nice applesspoiled—so here goes.” With these words, she made a rush forthe mouse, making all the noise she could; which is not usual with cats,you know, which go very softly, in order not to scare the mice beforethey can catch them.
Cooky, of course, darted away to his hole in a hury, and there peepedout carefully. “Now,” said he to himself, “that cathas a kind look; I’ve a good mind to try, and make a bargain withher, so that I can get something to eat once in a while. Perhaps I canmake her promise not to eat me, but it will do no harm to try, and